


First Impressions

by firebird_writings



Series: Di'kut In Command [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Bad Reputation, Conditioned Child Soldiers in Adult Bodies, Confused Clones, Dumbass In Command, Friendly banter, More Dumbasses In Charge, Secrets, Sibling Bonding, So much anxiety, Training Session, shinies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebird_writings/pseuds/firebird_writings
Summary: A group of shinies is shipped to the Songbird and they are wary of their General. Portia wants to know the reason, and a solution to the problem.
Series: Di'kut In Command [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914274
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are more original clones in this one. If anyone wants a list to keep all of them straight, just tell me. 
> 
> Have fun!

It was probably normal to be nervous when first deployed into a battalion, freshly off Kamino, and sent into war. Who wouldn’t be?  
  
CT-6234 looked around the transport, and his fourteen brothers looked more than nervous. They had all been excited to leave Kamino when they had gotten their marching orders. All clones were; excited to leave, eager to prove themselves, worried to fail. But the glum atmosphere here was not what he was used to. His batchmates had been nervous, too, when they had been deployed. But this? This was uncomfortable.  
  
They were sent to the 107th.  
  
The medic among them, his name was Brake if 34 wasn’t mistaken, looked especially nauseous. He couldn’t begrudge him that. It had made it even to Kamino that the 107th had one of the highest death counts of all battalions, and must therefore be a medic’s nightmare. 34 himself could understand why some of his brothers loved being medics. Helping each other came natural to clones. But it sure wouldn’t be fun working in a medbay where almost 40% of the patients died.  
  
It wasn’t even that the 107th was sent to high risk battles. Not more than other battalions, anyway. And every clone knew what that meant; it was the General.  
  
There were Generals who cared about the men under their command, there were Generals who didn’t. And then there were Generals who openly didn’t even see them as living beings. It was their right, of course; they were just clones. But…  
  
“We’re arriving”, the pilot called back to them. “Get ready.”  
  
34 checked his gear, an automatic process that didn’t need any conscious thought at this point. His brothers around him did the exact same thing.  
  
When their transport ship landed in the hangar they were all ready and set up, standing at attention in three rows of five. 34 swallowed heavily and was very grateful for his helmet. At least he wouldn’t have to keep his face in check.  
  
“Welcome aboard the Songbird”, a clone in armor but without helmet greeted them. The first thing 34 noticed was the deep red pattern on the armor. The second thing he noticed was the name of the ship. It sounded… off. He longed to look to his brothers, to see if they shard his sentiment, but he didn’t dare turning his head. “I am Commander Vic, beside me is Captain Abe.” Another clone in red armor nodded his greeting. “Due to the late arrival, the General can’t be here to greet you, she sends her apologies.”  
  
This made the squad of fifteen shift a bit and glance at each other. General Portia was supposed to greet them? The first thing they had been supposed to see from their new battalion had been the Jedi who had such a high death roll?  
  
That was a start.  
  
34 suddenly was glad that they had been delayed by a meteor cluster. All of them had been anxious when the pilots had announced that they had to take a detour. But now it seemed that it had worked out in their favour.  
  
“This also shifts our schedule a bit”, the Commander continued but held up his hand in a calming fashion when the newcomers started to get antsy. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing drastic. We will just have you go to the mess hall first before you are shown to your bunks. Captain Abe will bring you there. Abe, no scaring the shinies.” The Commander gave the Captain a warning look. The Captain just grinned at that. 

  


They were alone in the mess hall, the Captain saying that soon there would be a hungry hoard attacking and that he wanted them to be gone by then.  
  
“Company’s good but not during wildlife feeding”, he shrugged. He then asked them their names.  
  
The medic’s name was Brake, as 34 had thought. There were three more of them who had names, the others only could give their numbers. At that Captain Abe grumbled.  
  
“You’ll get your names”, he reassured them. “We have very few on board who still go by their number.”  
  
“Sir, maybe it’s… sir!” The trepidation in the voice of Commander Vic that was heard from the corridor let the fifteen troopers sit up straight in just a second.  
  
“Oh nonsense”, another voice, very female, scoffed. It had just clicked within 34 who that was, who that had to be, when a figure was storming into the mess hall.  
  
As if an inaudible signal had been called, the troopers all scrambled to their feet, 34 knocking over his spoon in his haste. All of them had realized who was barging in. It was the General.  
  
When she came to a halt at their table, 34 was in the perfect position to study her since he was seated at the corner of the table. Or he would have been, had his heart not hammered forcefully and his attention not been captured by the spoon that was now lying to the General’s feet.  
  
“So”, the Jedi said, putting her hands onto her hips. “You are my new shinies. I hope...” They never found out what she hoped because her foot was clicking against 34’s spoon. She looked down for a long moment, watching the spoon as if it was a difficult puzzle to be solved. Then she lifted her head again.  
  
34 was dying a thousand deaths, and now he didn’t even have his bucket to hide it. He carefully kept his face blank, even though he wanted nothing more than to grimace. Of course he was the unlucky fool who got on the General’s bad side on the first day.  
  
“Commander?”  
  
“Yes, General.” Vic, who had followed the Jedi into the mess hall with an exasperated aura, stepped forth.  
  
“Get your brother a new spoon.”  
  
“General...”  
  
“Hey, if you had pulled me out of the meeting, I wouldn’t have missed their arrival”, the General interrupted Vic before he could start an argument on why he shouldn’t be made to fetch 34 a spoon. “If I hadn’t missed the arrival, I wouldn’t have had to interrupt their meal time. If I hadn’t interrupted their meal time, there wouldn’t have been a spoon incident.” She nodded at her own logic. “Now shoo!”  
  
“General.” The Commander didn’t argue further, which was probably for the best, and just picked up the spoon and made his way to the other side of the mess hall. 34 felt nauseous at seeing this. The Commander had to bend down to pick up something he, CT-6234 had dropped.  
  
“And hurry a bit. We all know that stuff doesn’t get better when it’s cooling.” That stuff, being the nutrition paste that apparently was standard on Start Destroyers. “Seriously”, she addressed the troopers, “you could build brick houses with it when it’s cold.”  
  
34 dared to look at General Portia, even if it was just for a second before he set his eyes back onto his tray. She was fairly young, he would say. Not that he had much to go on when it came to people who were not his brothers. She was wearing Jedi-typical clothes but not in the subdued brown they often chose. Her tunic was the same colour as her battalion’s armor. It kind of clashed with her coppery hair. He assumed she was considered pretty among reg-borns, with big brown eyes and a soft mouth.  
  
But still. Looks could be deceiving. Her death count was immense.  
  
“So, all of you”, she said. “Sit down and eat. I have no intention to build something today, and we’re not wasting stuff, not even… this.” Another quick glance showed 34 that she was looking at the nutrition paste with a wrinkled nose. He could guess that she was not eating the standard rations.  
  
Of course not, he scolded himself. She’s the General.  
  
The others sat back down slowly, hesitating in case their new superior changed her mind. But she didn’t, so they continued eating. Just 34 was still standing, figuring that the order hadn’t been for him since he had no spoon to eat with.  
  
“Goes for you, too, pal”, the General said and looked at him blandly. “Just because you can’t eat, doesn’t mean you can’t sit down.”  
  
“Yes, sir”, he hurried to say and flopped down onto the bench quickly. “I’m sorry, sir.” General Portia nodded curtly, acknowledging his apology but not answering. When the Commander came back and handed 34 a fresh spoon, he dutifully continued to eat, trying to keep his head low.  
  
“Right. I’m leaving you to it now. Commander, Captain, with me.” Abe stood up obediently, looking slightly uncomfortable. Nobody at the table could say anything against that.  
  
“Someone will be sent to fetch you”, the Commander reassured his new men before the three of them exited the mess hall. 

  


Portia paced on the bridge, going through several emotions in only a few moments. Vic and Abe were standing side by side, waiting patiently for her to finish her internal freak-out. When she finally came to a stop in front of them, her shoulders sagged.  
  
“They are scared”, she said, clearly miserable. “They are fresh from Kamino, right?” Vic nodded at that. “But they’re even more… agitated than normal. Did something bad happen on their way here? Do we know something?”  
  
“Ehm...” Vic straightened his back, trying to steel himself. Portia could feel guilt wafting from him. She squinted.  
  
“Vic…?”  
  
“General?” Abe made a step. “If I...”  
  
“Sure.” She nodded. “Just one of you tell me what’s wrong.”  
  
“The shinies are scared”, Abe said, looking straight ahead, “because the 107th doesn’t have the best reputation.”  
  
Portia tilted her head at that, looking at Abe thoughtfully.  
  
“They are scared of… us?” An entirely new wave of guilt washed over her, this time from both Vic and Abe. “Guys.” Abe refused to meet her eyes, and Vic’s gaze was… unreadable. It dawned on her. “They are scared of me.”  
  
Both clones nodded mutely.  
  
“What did I do?” She didn’t manage to keep the slight panic out of her voice, and both Vic and Abe snapped up at that.  
  
“Nothing, your did nothing/It was us!” They talked over each other, then stopping. Portia frowned, then sighed deeply.  
  
“Please explain...”  
  
The two of them looked at each other and seemed to be having an inaudible discussion.  
  
“It was my idea, General.”  
  
“Huh...” She turned around to where Devil was standing at attention.  
  
“It was my idea, initially”, he repeated. “Vic and Abe just… elaborated it.” He lowered his head and took a deep breath. Then he met her eyes straight-on. “We have an unnaturally high death roll, and to avoid suspicion we have started to spread… stories.”  
  
“Stories.” Portia frowned, looking from Devil to the other two. Vic nodded miserably.  
  
“We figured that someone at High Command would eventually get suspicious if such a caring General lost so many troopers. And we can’t afford an inspection on board.” Portia nodded at that. No, they had too much to hide. An inspection would be disastrous. “So we fabricated some stories”, Vic admitted. “No outright lies”, he assured her when she was opening her mouth to protest. “Don’t worry, we will not be caught lying.” She nodded, relieved. “Just exaggerating a bit, tweaking some things.”  
  
“What things?”  
  
“We managed to make people think that you’re a tough, stone-cold General who puts the mission before anything else”, Abe summarized, waving her follow-up question away. “We can show you all of the stories another time.”  
  
“...Okay.”  
  
“Troopers are talking”, Devil said, perfectly calm. But Portia could feel that he was just as nervous about her reaction as the other two were. “Whenever we meet other squads we are sharing our stories. Those stories get shared again. And they reach the ears of High Command eventually.”  
  
“So you made me a bitch.” Portia turned away, mulling over what she had just learned.  
  
“General”, Vic started but she held up her hand, not quite done with computing. “We’re sorry.”  
  
Portia needed a minute or two to wrap her head around what she had heard. Her thoughts were racing.  
  
“Damn”, she finally voiced. She looked up at them, Vic being discomfort personified, Abe looking like a kicked puppy, and Devil was clearly preparing for a storm. She looked at them, at how concerned they were for her feelings. For her. “That’s brilliant.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I said, that’s brilliant”, she repeated with a dry chuckle. “But next time I want to be informed if you’re managing my image, okay?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am!” Vic stood at attention. Relief flooded out of all three.  
  
“Good.” Portia nodded. “We can unpack that another time. Now we have to manage the problem at hand. The shinies are scared of me.”  
  
“Normally they would have had a proper greeting”, Devil explained. “And then we would’ve told them that the stories are just that; stories. But...”  
  
“But thanks to my erratic urge to see them, they now don’t have the most peaceful impression of me”, Portia finished and sighed. “I should have listened to you, Vic...”  
  
“If we had told you about it, it wouldn’t have happened”, Vic said. “It’s our fault, General.” That was up for debate, and if she knew her troopers it would be a heated debate; all of them trying to take the blame for themselves, Portia included.  
  
“I… have an idea”, Abe carefully threw into the room when the silence started to last. Three pairs of eyes landed on him, looking at him expectantly. “It will take time now to convince them that you are a calm and nice person. But we can show them that you care about your troops.” That sounded like a good start, actually. Portia nodded and gestured for him to continue. “We could show them a training session.”


	2. Chapter 2

A clone named Keys had collected them once they had finished their meal. He told them that he was their quartermaster, and to come to him should there be any complaints or problems. 34 was pretty sure that none of them would voice a complaint. Clones, after all, were used to minimal comfort.  
  
“Here we are!” Keys opened the door to a bunk room and then stepped aside to clear the way. “No assigned bunks, just choose one.”  
  
The clones filed in, and when it was 34’s turn he could only stare.  
  
He had expected a standard bunk room, not too different from the quarters on Kamino. But this was… something else. There were only two beds joined to each other, which meant there was only the wiggling of one brother to tough out. On the beds were colorful blankets and… pillows. As in plural. A quick glance throughout the room showed that there were two fluffy pillows on each bed. And…  
  
“Are there two mattresses on some beds?” It was CT-5274 who asked that, astonishment clear in his voice.  
  
“Yep”, Keys answered and scratched his head. “We didn’t get around to double up all the mattresses, yet. But once the next potentially mattress-destroying incident happens we can request more mattresses.”  
  
Wait… what?  
  
“Oh, ehm...” The older clone noticed fifteen brothers staring at him. He chuckled silently. “Yeah, right. You’re all new, I forgot. Don’t worry about it, it’s ship-intern policy.”  
  
Keys left them alone so they could recoup and have a break. 

  


The clones were nervous but also excited when Captain Abe fetched them for a special training. Thankfully the Captain didn’t look worse for wear, so whatever the General had wanted to talk to him and the Commander about, it probably hadn’t been too serious.  
  
“It’s a non-scheduled training session”, the Captain explained to them on the way to the sparring room. “But ori’vod thinks it’s important that you see it as soon as possible.”  
  
Ori’vod.  
  
Who could that be? Was the Captain talking about Commander Vic?  
  
The troopers exchanged confused looks. None of them knew what to make of it. They were all brothers, sure, but they normally didn’t refer to each other like that, especially not in a professional surrounding. Or was that different on a Star Destroyer?  
  
Captain Abe brought them to a room that didn’t seem like a typical sparring room. 34 had expected the padded floor that the sparring areas on Kamino sported, or at least something similar. But the room they were in now looked more like a storage space that only had scarce content. There were boxes and crates standing around in clusters that didn’t seem to make sense. At least that was what 34 thought because CT-4952 made a quiet disapproving noise.  
  
“Line up at the wall”, Abe said and nodded to where there was the most space. “We need you to be out of the way.” The troopers did as told, and 34 found himself between Brake and 74.  
  
Then they waited and watched how Abe was fiddling with three blasters. Only at closer inspection it hit 34 that those were not standard blaster. In fact, they didn’t look like blasters, at all. He turned his head to 74.  
  
“Do you recognize those weapons?”, he whispered. His brother hummed, but shook his head after a moment.  
  
“No… they look weird.” 34 nodded. He turned his head to his other side where Brake was standing but before he could ask the medic if he knew that type of weapon, three people were entering the room.  
  
And one of them was General Portia.  
  
It seemed like the tension in the room immediately tripled, and everyone was standing a bit straighter than before. 34 watched the General’s step falter for a second before she marched on to the middle of the room where Abe was waiting. Commander Vic and another clone were walking behind her.  
  
The General turned to the troopers and smiled a tight smile.  
  
“I owe you all a proper welcome”, she said, and 34 was sure he wasn’t the only one who heard that as very ominous. “Normally I greet my new troopers at the hangar. This time that was impossible because someone”, she threw a side-glance at Commander Vic, “didn’t pull me out of a meeting. Which I will not forget any time soon, Vic. Those meeting are boring as hell!”  
  
“Topic, General”, Vic answered smoothly with a hint of a smile. 34 frowned. This was… odd.  
  
“Oh. Yes.” The General scrunched up her nose before addressing the troopers again. “Yeah. I didn’t get to greet you, so you couldn’t get the usual impression of me. Which I was informed was important. Which is why I’m giving the word to Commander Devil now.” She waved to the third clone, and eyebrows were raised in the line.  
  
Another Commander?  
  
“We have to inform you”, Devil said, “that you all have fallen victim to a deception.” 74 beside him huffed indignantly, and 34 couldn’t begrudge him that. It was their first day on a Star Destroyer and already nothing made sense, anymore. “It was Vic, Abe, and me who fabricated said deception. We have been… establishing a certain reputation for General Portia. Without her knowledge, I must add.”  
  
What?  
  
“In reality”, Vic said after a permission-seeking look to Devil, “Portia is the most caring person we have ever met. And she’s the best General a clone can wish for.”  
  
“We have our reasons to keep her reputation as it is”, Devil continued. “But now that you’re part of the 107th you should know that this reputation is not earned.”  
  
His head ached. 34 felt like someone was liquefying the ground underneath his feet. And judging by the mutters and noises his brothers made, they felt no different. What was this? A scam to make them think the stories they had heard were false? Or… or could it be that those stories really had been false?  
  
“I’m aware that you didn’t get the best first impression.” General Portia sighed. “And I’m also aware that a ruined first impression is difficult to change. But I will try my hardest. That said, I understand if you are wary of me, and continue to be. I won’t be angry about that”, she hurried to reassure them. “I just ask you to give me a chance.”  
  
Ask.  
  
A General, a Jedi, was asking. Them, clones.  
  
“And to take a first step at that”, she said and then grinned, “we’re going to give you a treat!”  
  
34 thought he might puke from emotional whiplash. The grin on the General’s face seemed genuinely happy. There was no malice in it. She looked giddy like a little kid.  
  
“What General Dumbass over here”, shocked gasps were heard at Abe’s words, “calls a treat, is actually called Sith Tactics Training. By the way”, he looked at the General who was merely raising an eyebrow at the Captain even though he had just insulted her. “I’m still proposing we’re shortening that name.”  
  
“We are not calling it Sith Titties, Abe.” Commander Vic looked positively murderous. The General sighed deeply.  
  
“What Captain Bigmouth wants to say”, she said, “is that it’s possible that any of you will meet a Sith in battle, and then you have to defend yourselves and your brothers. Sadly that is not covered on Kamino, right? Because why preparing soldiers for the actual opponents they will have to face!”  
  
“General”, Vic interrupted what seemed to have the possibility of a lengthy rant.  
  
“Yeah, sorry. Staying on topic. I know that you have been briefed on what to do when you encounter a hostile Force user. And I know that it’s basically ‘take cover and wait for your designated Jedi to arrive’, which is actually a good strategy. But...” She grimaced. “Sadly, a Sith will not adhere to that. They will attack you. And if you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re gonna die. I won’t have that.” 

  


It turned out that the special training consisted of the three officers attacking the General with toy weapons. The weird looking blasters were actually toys that shot little pieces of foam. And the General was countering the foam ammunition with a stick. Said stick was painted red because “I’m a Sith now, of course my saber is red!” and she was wielding it as if it was a lightsaber.  
  
It was the safe variant of deflecting blaster bolts.  
  
Both Commanders and the Captain were using the clusters of crates as cover, moving around the room and trying to hit the General with the foam bolts. They were not bad. On Kamino the clones had been taught that the Jedi and the Sith could deflect blaster bolts with their lightsabers and send them back to the one firing them. That it was deadly. But the clone officers in front of them gave the General a run for her money. They attacked together, making it hard for General Portia to move fast enough to deflect all of the foam bolts. And the longer 34 and the others watched, the better they could understand, why.  
  
There were patterns in how the General moved. Just like there were patterns in the fighting techniques that had been taught to the clones. They were vastly different, but a pattern was a pattern. It could be learned. It could be countered.  
  
And they had fun. All four of them had fun. More than once the officers let bolts rain on the General when they had managed to break her defense, and she just laughed at it. She laughed and giggled, and told them to assume starting position again. It was competitive, but friendly.  
  
“Okay, enough!” General Portia raised her stick above her head in surrender. “I’m not a freaking perfect specimen of human fitness!” She unceremoniously flopped onto the ground, panting heavily. She blew a few hairs out of her face.  
  
“Good match, General”, Vic said with a big, happy grin and walked around a crate he had used as cover. “You’re still slouching your left shoulder, though.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah...” The General waved that away. “You hit your shoulder on a plasma cannon, and then we talk.”  
  
“We all know that Atin offered you a bacta patch”, Devil admonished, shouldering his weapon. “And you turned it down.”  
  
“Are we done pestering me?” The look the General gave the two could only be called The Stink Eye.  
  
“Nope”, Abe said, letting the p pop. “You should eat more. You have been slacking lately.” The General threw her hands in the air.  
  
“What? Is it Bashing Portia Time?!”  
  
“We just want you to take care of yourself.” Abe patted her on the head, which made the line of clones gasp again. “Or we will have to demote you to vod’ika again instead of ori’vod.” 

  


34 was uncomfortable, even more so now than he had been when arriving on the Songbird. He and his brothers were in their bunk room again, not having been put to duty for today. And now they were quite restless.  
  
More than one of them was shuffling about, trying to get left-over adrenaline out of their systems. The arrival had been something, alright.  
  
“Do we believe them?” 52 was sitting on the top bunk in the corner, dangling his legs and ignoring another clone who was keeping himself busy with fiddling with 52’s shin guards.  
  
“It didn’t look fake”, 74 replied from his stretched out position in the bottom bunk beside them.  
  
“True.”  
  
“They were calling her a vod”, Brake voiced what was probably on all their minds. That was… big.  
  
All clones were vode.  
  
Sure, you had your batchmates, and there were boys you saw as your older siblings, or cadets you saw as your little brothers. But in the end they were all… aliit. Each other were all they had.  
  
To grant an outsider, a reg-born, that title was almost sacrilegious. 34 had never heard of something like that. Especially not about a General. His head was swimming with this new information, and he was sure that he wasn’t the only one who felt lost.  
  
“They must have secrets”, another clone 34 didn’t know said. When the others looked at him quizzically, he just shrugged. “If they feel the need to manage the General’s image.”  
  
“True”, 34 nodded. “And apparently they didn’t tell the General. So it’s possible that she doesn’t even know the secret. Although”, he admitted before anyone could protest, “at least now she would have an idea, since she has acknowledged the deception.”  
  
“What are we doing now?”  
  
That was the question, right? They had had expectations, and those had proven false. Or at least, the General had done everything in her power to prove them false. If that had been genuine, or a farce, they couldn’t tell right now.  
  
“What can we do?” 34 shrugged. “Reality doesn’t seem to be as bad as our imagination was. And even if the training session turns out to be another deception, then reality will still not be any worse than what we initially expected.” Agreeing murmurs were heard. “I propose we give her the benefit of the doubt. We are stuck here either way, so we may as well stay positive.”


End file.
